Spirit in the Sky
by Kalena
Summary: Set him up with the spirit in the sky...Set after the movie. One Shot


**Disclaimer: **I don't own any of the characters from Constantine.

**AN: **This is my first Constantine fic and it's been a while since I've seen the movie so forgive me for inaccuracies, if you see any could you please let me know and I'll fix them.

**Spirit in the Sky**

It was through a dull, drunken haze that the lyrics penetrated John Constantine's brain. He took a moment to register before letting a short, resentful laugh pass his lips. He shook his head at the bitter irony, of all the bars he could have gone to he chose the one that played cheesy, eighties music.

A jukebox in the corner was lit up and blasting the song loudly as Constantine contemplated what the owner of the bar would do if he shot it. Considering the décor and music the bar was surprisingly dank, just the way he wanted it; it matched his mood. Smoke hung heavy in the air and drunken gibberish coming from bearded, 50-year-old bikers only added to the gloomy atmosphere.

Knocking back another shot of whisky he tried to block out the images from the previous day to no avail. It was all he could think about, all he could see when he closed his eyes. The memories were still so fresh: Beeman, Father Hennessy, Chas.

There was nothing he could do; at least that's what he kept telling himself. _It wasn't your fault, it's not like you made _Beeman_ do that research, it's not as though you forced _Father Hennessy_ to get rid of his protection, you didn't introduce Chas to demons and fighting evil and then lead him into the battle. You're completely faultless. _

Another embittered laugh that sounded more like a cough. It was unfair, the others died, Angela lost her sister and he was _cured_ of lung cancer, by the devil no less.

_Shattered glass littered the floor. Blood spilled out in dark pools on the linoleum floor. Arms limp at his sides, he could even light his cigarette. There was a conversation, it's blurred, the searing pain in his wrists distracted him a little. He was being dragged away, and then there was light, so bright it might have made him blind had he not been half conscious at the time. He wanted to be back in the light._

On earth there was nothing for him, only guilt and alcohol, having now quit smoking, and those only got a person so far. He had considered getting a pet but he wasn't really a dog person and cats were out of the question, birds were too loud and fish didn't really keep a person occupied for long.

He knew one person who would be able to keep him occupied, in the best possible way, Angela. She was new and interesting but he cared a little too much for her, he wouldn't be able to forgive himself if anything ever happened to her. Guilt over three deaths was more than enough for him.

After raking around inside the pocket of his worn coat he pulled out a twenty and slammed it on the grubby bar.

"There you go Bill," he referred to the barman by name, having spent most of the evening buying drinks. "That should cover those last few."

His voice was husky from lack of use and years of chain smoking, the devil may have got the lungs but he didn't get his throat. Pulling himself off of the barstool he tested his balance. Satisfied that he could walk he let go of the bar and made for the door.

"G'night Constantine," Bill called after him.

Constantine acknowledged his statement with a slight nod of his head before exiting the bar.

The bitter wind and rain outside never bothered him, why should it? He had faced the devil, fought off demons, he had watched death and pain take over the people he cared about, found their bodies; twisted and cold, stained red. He had literally been to hell and back. He had witnessed the carnage first-hand, heard the cries of pain as endless agony surrounded him; the stink of sulphur and rotten taste of ash had polluted his senses as he walked among the fallen. What was a little rain?

As he tread the cold tarmac on the familiar root to his excuse for a home, the thought of calling Angela had popped into his head but he dismissed it almost instantly. It wasn't that he didn't want to, Angela was after all very beautiful and intelligent, but he had witnessed the afterlife, one that had almost been _his_ afterlife yet, by some miracle, he had been given a second chance and he wasn't going to waste it by getting more people killed.

There was very little light outside, the moon being concealed behind the thick, heavy, low hanging clouds that were currently raining down on Constantine. The streetlights flickered as he passed under them before going back to their dull, almost orange glow.

The bright headlights of a passing car caught his attention.

_Those penetrating, eyes standing out amongst the darkness._

Metal sliced through metal.

_Jagged claws reached out, piercing skin, holding on tightly._

A woman yelled for an ambulance.

_The cries of the fallen filtered through the broken ambulance doors._

Hysteria gripped the people nearby as they ran toward the crash sight, trying to get a better look.

_A shock rang through his weary body, colours flashed before his eyes, lights danced above him._

He tried to ignore the screams of agony coming from the car wrecks and the sirens as they came around the corner as he continued to walk toward his apartment. There had been no ambulances for Chas, no panic, no grief stricken family. Poor guy didn't even have a proper home, a drunken mother and ghost for a dad. Constantine had been like an older brother to him, an older brother who had gotten him killed.

Maybe it was better for everyone if he continued to be a recluse, they wouldn't have to die horrible, painful deaths and he wouldn't have to deal with the guilt and, although he tried to deny it, grief over their loss. Yes, he would stay on his own, make acquaintances when needed, never get too attached and never do anything for the girl again.

_Oh set me up with the spirit in the sky _

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Please review, constructive criticism welcome, feel free to flame but leave an e-mail address so that I can get in touch. 


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